


That one time Ron attended Harry's party and didn't enjoy it at all

by MelCalder



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Felching, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Heartbroken Ron, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Rimming, Voyeurism, cocktails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:43:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27507799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelCalder/pseuds/MelCalder
Summary: It's all there in the title...After his "break-up" with Hermione, Ron crashes at Harry's place and has to attend one of Harry's parties. He doesn't enjoy it all that much, until he does...
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Ron Weasley/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 10
Kudos: 194





	That one time Ron attended Harry's party and didn't enjoy it at all

He’s not really in the mood for a party. It’s only been three months since he and Hermione have called it quits. Or since they have taken a break because _that is the adult thing to do, when things aren’t really working out, Ron_. Hermione’s voice still echos in his head more often than not.

She has always been his voice of reason. It’s just that now she isn’t his girlfriend anymore.Probably. And he doesn’t want to hear her voice, not in his head. He either wants her to come back and speak to him in the real world or he wants her to altogether shut up. Which, of course, means that his stupid brain needs to stop conjuring her up, which it doesn’t. It’s annoying.

With a sigh he leans back into the sofa he is sitting on and brings the bottle of tepid beer to his mouth. He takes a sip and then makes a face at the taste of the stale beverage. There is nothing for it, he will have to get up and get himself a new drink.

He’s not in the mood to talk either, so he keeps his head down as he walks towards the kitchen in an effort to slip by unnoticed. In the end, his effort is futile.

“Hey Ronald,“ Pansy‘s annoyingly high voice drifts towards him as he enters the room. Hermione has told him to call the Slytherins by their first names to show support for Harry. He argued that he has always supported Harry and that it shouldn’t matter what he called them. Hermione had given him the look. He had conceded, like he so often did, even if it meant taking a break which he most definitely doesn’t want to.

“Blaise is making Long Island Iced Teas, want one?“ She continues, but he doesn’t want to talk, so he just shrugs, walks to the fridge and takes out a bottle before he turns around and leaves again.

By the time he returns, his seat it taken. Fucking Neville, useless, seat-taking… no! It’s not Neville he is pissed at. Not Harry, either. Or any of his guests. Not even the ones he doesn’t quite like but still has to address by their given names.

He should be grateful that Harry has agreed to let him stay at Grimmauld, even though the Ferret – there is only so much support that he can give – has just moved in. Fucking Ferret. He is so over all of this. All he wants to do is go up to the guest bedroom, curl up under his covers and talk to literally no one ever again.

He finds himself a seat in a corner somewhat separate from the main party area, takes a sip from his beer and lets is head fall back. The music is loud enough to let himself indulge in an annoyed groan. When will this wretched day end?

“Oh, Ronald, there you are,“ someone says to his left. His head snaps up and sees Blaise making his way towards him. Blaise is probably the least annoying of the Slytherins, though he still is a posh twat same as all of them.

“I’ve made you a cocktail,“ he says, putting down a tall glass in front of Ron. “Didn’t know, if you wanted one.“ Blaise plops down in the chair next to him, making the movement seems effortlessly elegant and takes a long drag from his own drink, moaning obscenely in the process. “Mhh… I’ve outdone myself, if I do say so myself. Come on, Ronald, this will get you nice and sloshed way faster than your current drink of choice,“ he says with a raised eyebrow and when Ron wants to protest that he is most certainly not trying to get drunk, Blaise holds up one slender, elegant hand and continues, “Don’t even try and deny it. We’ve all been there.“

With a resigned sigh, he exchanges his bottle for the glass and takes a sip, completely ignoring the frilly straw. Blaise is right, the drink is good, a little to sweet for his taste, but with enough booze in it to make Ron forget about his dislike of sweet drinks.

“’s good,“ he says and doesn’t even bother putting the drink back on the table. He leans back in his seat once more, taking the straw into his mouth and sips.

“Ronald, I know you’re not feeling too good as of now,“ Blaise begins, but Ron just cuts him off.

“I’m fine,“ he says. It has become something of a catch phrase, his own personal mantra in the last months with everyone fussing over him post break-up. Blaise snorts delicately.

“Sorry,“ he chuckles, “Go tell that to someone who believes it.“ Ron could start a fight with him. Or at the very least he could be rude enough to make him fuck off. Somehow it doesn’t seem worth the effort. Harry is going to be majorly pissed if Ron offends one of his guests. Especially so, since Blaise is one of the Ferret’s friends. So, the Ferret’s going to throw a hissy fit and Harry will be inclined to stand by Ron which will get these two into a fight which will result in more make-up sex than Ron can handle in his current frame of mind.

He remembers two weeks ago, when they had got into a snitch about Ron _overstaying his welcome_ , as the Ferret had put it. As if Ron didn’t have more right to Grimmauld place than the Ferret ever could. He had lived there for years before Hermione and him had got their own flat. Back when they had still been very much in love, like he still was, but Hermione apparently not so much.

Harry had been furious, telling the Ferret what a stuck-up, spoiled brat he was being, which led to the Ferret yelling back about unmannered Gryffindors which then resulted in a half-hour screaming match during which Ron had disappeared into his room. Hehad wanted to sleep and when they had finally shut up, they started to fuck, loudly and unnecessarily verbal. Ron didn’t need to know how gorgeous the Ferret looked on his knees or how well he took Harry’s cock. Neither did he need to know how much the Ferret loved it when Harry fucked him hard. The whole encounter left Ron queasy and embarrassingly hard.

He didn’t want to wank over his best friend fucking his boyfriend who Ron hated or at the very least strongly disliked. He didn’t want to be turned on by them going at it. Not when he was straight and mourning his very heterosexual relationship which had only just ended two and a half months ago. Needless to say, he had wanked. But he had felt sufficiently bad about it later, so he tries not to think about it.

Blaise nudges him with his elbow. “Sorry, what?“ Ron slurs slightly. At least the drink is doing what it is supposed to.

“I said, that if you needed someone to talk, you could, with me,“ Blaise says.

“Talk, huh?“ Ron snorts and he knows he is being rude.

“First of, rude!“ Blaise exclaims, „And second, just because I’m a gay man, doesn’t mean I’m hitting on you. I don’t have any desire for the man I am going down on to cry his little eyes out about his ex-girlfriend when he should be crying for joy, because if there is one thing I’m good at, besides mixing drinks, it is sucking cock. Thirdly, I’m not especially fond of hearing the words ´But I’m not gay` when my come is still leaking out of someone.“ Blaise makes to stand but is held back by Ron’s hand on his arm.

“Sorry,“ he says, contrite yet uncomfortably aroused by Blaise’s little speech. Blaise leans back again, fixing Ron with a half-hearted, snooty glare. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to talk, but thank you for offering,“ Ron says and tries to smile at the other man, but he isn’t really sure that it comes out right, because he feels flushed and confused and also his bad mood is still as bad as it has been all evening.

“I want you to drink your cocktail and in about twenty minutes I’m going to bring you a second one, that leaves you with an hour, roughly, to mope around. By then you should be drunk enough to get on the dance floor and have some fun.“ Blaise gets up, brushes his hands down the front of his waistcoat, checking that all his posh and very much over the top clothes are wrinkle-free, then he turns to leave. They do fit, though, his clothes, the fashionable, slim-cut slacks hug his legs like a glove and his ivory shirt that has been rolled up at the sleeves contrasts nicely with his dark skin and why is he evening noticing such things?

“Blaise,“ he calls out softly and when the other man turns around again he says, “Thank you.“

For a moment, it looks like Blaise isn’t going to say anything, but then he says, “I know what it’s like. When Theo broke up with me, I was crushed and it took me some time but eventually I realized that things hadn’t been working out for quite some time and I had just been too in love with the idea of him to notice.“

“That’s not…,“ Ron protests but Blaise just shrugs. “I didn’t say that it was.“ And he turns around and leaves Ron to himself.

Ron knows that Blaise and Theo had been a thing during eighth year. He had seen them together back then and even after Hogwarts he had seen them a couple of times in Diagon Alley or at the pub. By the time that Harry and the Ferret started seeing each other and the subsequent merge of their respective circles of friends they had already broken up. He hadn’t noticed that Blaise had been struggling with their break up. Maybe he had been over it by then. Maybe he had already realized that things hadn’t been working out towards the end of their relationship.

But as nice as it has been of Blaise to let him in on his struggles and epiphanies, this is not what has happened between him and Hermione. Everything had been fine up until Hermione decided that they should take a break. They were friends, still are the best of friends. He talked to Hermione about everything and he misses that. She has helped him make every decision since the end of the war. She has helped him cope with the loss of his brother and all the countless others. They cried together, especially in the beginning and they laughed together. They had been a team.

To say that they have had no problems at all, isn’t really true either, he has to give Blaise that much. Of course, there were problems. Especially after the war. He loved her, still does, but back then even though he loved her, everything, the trauma of the war, the lives lost, the things that he had had to do to survive had laid heavily on his mind and despite the fact that he loved her with his heart, and very much so, he couldn’t really love her with his body. But it was fine. She understood. She didn’t want to have sex back then either.

She bounced back quicker than he did, though, which was understandable. She hadn’t lost a brother. Her parents were fine. It only took one trip to Australia and her family was happily restored. His family was broken. It still is.

They had found other ways to be together. She liked to tell him that sex is more than just penetration, that is was very feminist of them to find other ways to bring each other pleasure. Ron just isn’t as sexual a person. And that’s okay. Hermione had been okay with that and she definitely hadn’t asked for a break because of it.

It’s just that they had been so young when they got together. The weight of what they had been through had always rested heavily on their relationship. They’d never really just casually dated. They had never fallen into the easy kind of love. She needs time to experience that, to see if it is out there for her. He understands that but it still hurts that he isn’t the one that can give it to her. He just hopes that she realizes that what they had, had been real and that something like that couldn’t just easily be found through casual dating.

By the time he has downed his second cocktail, he does as Blaise has told him to. He goes over to the small part of the living room that Harry has cleared of any furniture and dances to the Weird Sisters and then to Oasis and then to the Spice Girls. He knows the lyrics because his two best friends grew up as Muggles and he focusses on singing along instead of thinking about anything. He dances with Harry and then with Luna and because he is feeling better after their talk and his drinks, he dances with Blaise. They do stupid dance moves and laugh together and before he even knows what has happened the evening that he has so desperately wished to be over slowly draws to an end.

Most of the people have already left the party. Only Ron and Blaise remain in the living room while Harry and the Ferret clean up the kitchen.

“Feeling better,“ Blaise asks, lazily putting one foot onto the coffee table then crossing his other foot above it at the ankle. Ron notices his long, strong legs and lets his eyes travel along them, up over Blaise’s flat stomach, towards his graceful neck and then his handsome face.

He blushes, then shrugs, “I don’t know. Maybe.“ He can’t help the small smile that spreads across his face, because he does feel better, but Blaise doesn’t need to know that he might have something to do with that.

They talk for a while, but as Ron’s body breaks down the alcohol in his system, he feels his eyes drooping. He wonders why Blaise doesn’t leave, feels like he should probably stay seated and entertain him a little longer, just until Harry and the Ferret are back, because that is the polite thing to do. But the longer he waits the heavier his limbs become and if he waits any longer he might just fall asleep on the couch. He isn’t eighteen anymore, though. So, when he jerks awake after having drifted of for a second he decides that he needs his bed.

“I’m sorry,“ he says, rubbing at his eyes. “I need sleep.“

“’s okay,“ Blaise answers. “Sleep tight.“

He feels almost sober now, but he’s dead tired. When he walks by the kitchen Harry and the Ferret aren’t there, though it still looks as if a bomb has gone off in there. How rude of them to leave their guest alone in the living room when they aren’t even cleaning like they said they would be.

He walks up the stairs, instinctively skipping the third one that has always creaked even though Harry has tried everything he could think of to fix it. Grimmauld is an old house and not all of its quirks can be fixed. Harry should probably be grateful that he was able to get the portrait of Sirius’s mother off the wall.

Lost in his thoughts he continues his way towards his room, until suddenly he stops short. He doesn’t even know why, he hasn’t consciously sensed anything out of the ordinary, but his ears strain and then he hears it. A moan. For the love of god, he thinks, rolling his eyes heavenwards. But when he looks around, he can see that the bathroom door is ajar.

He takes a step forward, then another one, stops when he hears another moan and when he leans to the side just a fraction his breath catches in his throat. He can see Harry and Draco in there, shirts off, hips slotted together, clothed erections rutting against each other. His brain circuits and he freezes, slack-jawed.

Its takes him a couple of moments to remember how to breathe and even though he knows that he shouldn’t be watching, that he shouldn’t want to be watching, his legs don’t quite seem to move.

He can see them kissing frantically, one of Harry’s hands is splayed across Draco’s jaw, angling his head to give him better access, while his other arm his wrapped around Draco’s back, pulling him close. Draco’s hands travel up and down Harry’s flanks, brushing a tattoo of some lilies on his ribcage that Ron didn’t know he had.

Ron’s breathing comes heavily. He wants to go, he really does, but he is rooted to the spot. He cannot tear is eyes away from the two of them, how Draco’s pale skin is complemented by Harry’s darkness, how they rut together, how they seem so completely lost in each other.

Ron has never kissed anyone like this. Even from afar he can tell that he has never felt such passion, such desire to be with someone. He has also never felt this aroused from simply watching someone kiss. He swallows, but his mouth is dry and when he opens it again he gasps for air. It feels like fire is running through his veins and it burns brightest in his groin, where his cock is hard and throbbing painfully against his fly. He squeezes himself lightly through his trousers, inhaling sharply. He snatches his mouth shut, afraid that they might have heard him, but they are too lost in each other to pay attention to anything else.

“Harry,“ Draco gasps, “I need… Harry, I need you…“

Harry seems to understand what Draco needs without him having to tell him anything. “I’ve got you, love,“ he murmurs and his hands drop down to Draco’s belt and he begins to unfasten it.

Something twists in Ron’s chest painfully. It hurts to see their intimacy because it shows him that Blaise might have had a point. Maybe something has been missing between him and Hermione. They have never had this. This blind need.

Draco’s trousers pool around his ankles and he steps out of them, completely naked now. Ron’s gaze is drawn to his rigid cock. The skin there is darker than on the rest of Draco’s body, he can see the very tip of Draco’s cock peek through his foreskin. It is glistening with precome and for a second Ron wonders what it would be like to lick it. Not Draco’s prick necessarily, when he pictures it in his mind, he sees a different cock, darker skin, that contrasts with his pale skin just as beautifully as Harry’s contrasts with Draco’s.

Draco reaches down, gives himself a few lazy pulls, making more of the glans visible. “Suck me,“ he pleas and without hesitation Harry drops to his knees, looking up at Draco with adoring eyes. Draco guides his cock towards Harry’s mouth and brushes it along his lips lovingly. Ron can see Harry’s tongue peeking out, tasting him. Saliva floods Ron’s mouth at the sight and he swallows heavily when Draco feeds Harry his cock as if it was a special treat reserved for him only. Harry hollows his cheeks, sucking Draco deeper into his mouth and Draco’s head falls back and he emits a throaty moan.

Ron squeezes himself harder through his trousers, he is so hard it is painful, he needs some relieve, but at the same time he has enough rational thought left in himself to know that it is wrong to get his cock out and wank to his best friend sucking off his boyfriend.

Harry starts bobbing his head slowly, one hand is at Draco’s hip, pushing him gently against the vanity while his other hand cups Draco’s balls, pulling at them lightly. He lets his hand travel back behind Draco’s balls, making Draco spread his legs further and his hips buck involuntarily forward into Harry’s mouth. The movement is welcomed with a deep groan.

“They’re hot, aren’t they,“ a voice whispers next to Ron, making him almost jump out of his skin. His head snaps around towards the origin of the voice and he sees Blaise stalking towards him. Blaise flicks his wand at the door and when nothing happens, Ron concludes that he must have thrown a Muffliato at it.

“I didn’t… I was just… I,“ Ron stammers, but he doesn’t really know how to form a sentence anymore. How could he possibly explain what he is doing here, standing in the hallway with his hand on his cock, looking at Harry and Draco doing it. Or on their way to doing it.

Blaise steps towards him and before he knows what is even happening to him, he is spun around, so that he sees Draco shallowly thrusting into Harry’s mouth, while Harry’s hand is moving hidden behind him.

“Do you know what he is doing,“ Blaise asks and even though Ron has a vague idea as to what is happening in the bathroom, he shakes his head. He doesn’t know what he himself is doing, but the thought of turning Blaise away seems like the wrong thing to follow through.

“Do you want me to explain? Talk you through it?“ He should really say No. He should go to his room as he has wanted to do before he stumbled across this situation. He should push Blaise away. He definitely shouldn’t lean into Blaise who has moved behind him and splayed one hand on his stomach.

“Harry has lubed up his fingers,“ Blaise says, his hand travelling lower on Ron’s stomach. “You see, a man’s entrance needs some preparation before you can play with it. Before it can take a cock. It’s different than fanny. So tight.“ Blaise groans as his hand travels lower on Ron’s stomach. “Look at him, he’s really sensitive back there.“ Ron tries to stifle a moan at Blaise’s explanation. He let’s his head fall back against Blaise’s shoulder as his hand comes dangerously close to his cock.

“Don’t,“ he purrs into Ron’s ear and grabs his hair, pulling his head up. “Look. When Harry is deep enough, he is going to curl his fingers. Have you ever done that to yourself, Ronald? Has it been done to you?“ Ron shakes his head unsteadily. “It’s exquisite,“ Blaise continues. “With your fingers inside a man, you can massage his prostate. It feels…“ He pauses as if looking for the right words to describe the feeling. “There’s no way I can describe it to you. You have to feel it for yourself.“

They stay like this for a couple of moments, Blaise standing behind Ron, one hand splayed over his stomach, almost grazing Ron’s cock which is in turn straining towards Blaise’s hand, both tantalized by the view of Harry lazily sucking Draco’s cock increasingly deep into his mouth, while his arm moves at a slow pace only hinting at what is happening out of view.

“Ronald,“ Blaise whispers, his breath tickling the hairs on Ron’s neck. “Yes,“ Ron gasps. “I want to touch your cock.“

“Yes,“ Ron hisses, totally forgetting why he has ever thought about sending Blaise away.

“I’m going to open your fly now and then I’m going to wrap my hand around your cock. You’re hard, aren’t you?“ Ron nods frantically. With deft fingers Blaise opens Ron’s fly, then pulls down the zipper and even though it only takes about twenty seconds, Ron nearly crawls out of his skin with the need to be touched.

When Blaise’s hand wraps around him it is nothing like it had been with Hermione. Blaise isn’t hesitant, instead he is sure of himself, confident in what he is doing and that it will feel good for Ron. And it does, Merlin it feels so good to have Blaise’s large hand wrapped tightly around his aching prick. When he begins to move, Ron’s knees almost buckle, but Blaise catches him easily by wrapping his other arm tightly around his chest and pulling Ron towards himself.

“Easy,“ he whispers and then, “I’ve always wondered about your cock, Ronald. You’re bigger than I thought you would be and so wet.“ Ron moans as Blaise swipes his thumb over the head of his cock. “Can you feel what you’re doing to me?“ He asks huskily and thrusts his erect cock against Ron’s backside. “I’m hard for you, Ronald. You’re so deliciously inexperienced, wide-eyed and embarrassed, yet so turned on by two men fucking and one man holding your prick in his hand. This is better than anything I could have imagined.“

“Oh Merlin,“ Ron murmurs, overwhelmed by what is happening to him. Unsure as to why he is so turned on, why he doesn’t want Blaise to stop, why all of this feels so fucking good.

“Watch,“ says Blaise and Ron refocusses on Draco and Harry. Draco has turned around now, hand propped on the vanity, presenting his ass to Harry. Ron can see the shimmer of lube between his cheeks and when Harry, who is still on his knees, pulls them apart he can see Draco’s glistening hole, blinking slightly at Harry.

“He is going to eat him out,“ Blaise comments. “You won’t believe how brilliant it feels to have a hot tongue work you over. Draco’s going to loosen up so quickly for Harry and if Harry keeps at it, he’s going to come all over himself without even the slightest touch to his cock.“ Blaise works his hand over Ron’s cock with a firm grip, pulling the foreskin taut on every downstroke and swiping his thumb over his glans on the upstroke.

He moves his hand lower towards Ron’s balls and cups them gently. Humming appreciatively at the heavy weight of them in his hand.

In the other room Harry leans in, blocking Draco’s hole from view, but Ron can still pinpoint the exact moment Harry’s tongue touches him. Draco's whole body convulses at the sensation and he swears loudly, “Fuck, Harry, yes!“ He is facing the mirror now and Ron sees his blissed out expression until he lets his head fall forward and the blond strands of his hair cover up his face.

Blaise brushes his fingers even further back, towards Ron’s hole, but even though he is turned on out of his mind, it is more than Ron can handle tonight. He tenses and Blaise immediately retreats. “I’m not going to do anything that you don’t want me to,“ he reassures Ron, kissing his neck for the very first time. Ron melts into his embrace and Blaise’s hand returns to his cock, stroking him at a leisure pace, that leaves Ron frantic and panting for more.

“Did you see? Harry has pushed a finger inside him alongside his tongue,“ Blaise continues to narrate what is playing out in the bathroom. “He wants to get his cock wet. He can’t wait to be inside Draco’s hot, velvety hole.“

“Oh Merlin, Blaise,“ Ron moans and he turns his head towards the other man, desperate for more of anything. Their lips meet and immediately Blaise’s lips part and his tongue is in Ron’s mouth, brushing against Ron’s tongue, exploring his mouth. Ultimately, Ron’s too far gone to keep this up, he is too fuzzy with arousal to take control of the kiss and it turns sloppy, before Blaise trails kisses down his throat and bites the junction of neck and shoulder.

“Concentrate on them. Concentrate on my hand,“ he directs and with an enormous effort Ron pries his eyes open and turns his head, to see Harry moving two fingers in and out of Draco’s hole.

“Look out for when he goes for three fingers. Look what it does to Draco,“ Blaise instructs him softly and just as Blaise has predicted Harry pulls his two fingers out and pushes back in with three. Draco tenses for a couple of seconds and Harry holds his hand still, kissing every inch of skin he can reach.

“Sometimes it burns to be breached. But when you know what comes next, you learn to love it.“ As if on cue Draco lets go of a long, almost agonized moan.

“Harry,“ he calls softly, “Please, Harry, I need your cock. Now. Please.“ Harry gets up from his knees quickly, divesting himself of his trousers until his cock springs free. Ron notices a string of precome that stretches between the head of Harry’s cock and his underpants until it snaps apart, when they drop to the floor. Ron’s hips buck forward almost violently at the sight.

“Does it turn you on how wet he is? How he desires Draco?“ Blaise asks softly.

“Yes, fuck, yes,“ Ron rasps.

“He is going to push inside Draco soon. He is going to place that wet cock against Draco’s hole and he is going to brush it against it a couple of times. He wants Draco to beg for it. He wants him gagging for it, before he is going to push in. Can you imagine how tight he is, how hot, how his hole is almost going to suck Harry’s cock inside because Draco is so desperate for him?“ For all his dirty talk Blaise has almost ceased to move his hand, making Ron all the more frenzied for friction. He tries to push into Blaise’s fist, but the bastard just moves with him.

“Blaise… Blaise, please, I need…,“ Ron begs, but he doesn’t really know what he needs. He hasn’t done any of this with a man. And he most certainly has never felt like this.

“What do you need?“ Blaise purrs.

“More… anything,“ Ron whines.

“Do you want me to get on my knees for you? Do you want to fuck my throat like Harry is going to fuck Draco’s ass?“

„God, yes,“ Ron groans and however much of a tease Blaise might have been, he is on his knees within seconds. Ron can hear the zipper of his trousers being lowered and he knows that Blaise has his cock out. He wants to see, but there is only so much that he can focus on at a time. Maybe later he thinks, before Blaise grabs his hard length at the root and guides it towards his mouth.

Just as Harry enters Draco in the bathroom, Blaise swallows down his cock in the hallway, all four of them moaning obscenely. And if a second before Ron might have thought that he has got blowjobs before that this will be familiar, it is no such thing. Blaise’s mouth is hot and wet and so, so tight around him. Without even knowing what he is doing, his hands are suddenly buried in Blaise’s curly hair, holding on for dear life as Blaise begins to suck. It is almost too much, the way Blaise takes him deep and sucks hard, but just when he his about to pull away, Blaise eases his approach a bit, before increasing the intensity again. Blaise is unpredictable, one moment it feels like the life is sucked out of him through his cock, the next Blaise playfully caresses it, making Ron buck forward in his search for friction, for relief.

Every once in a while Ron glances at Harry and Draco, watching as Harry’s cock slides in and out of his lover, as Harry’s butt cheeks tense and press together as he tries to get as far inside as possible. He wants to see it, wants to see Draco’s pink hole swallowing Harry’s darker length, but he is distracted by the look in Harry’s face. He pounds almost violently into Draco, his need to be as deep as possible seems animalistic, but Ron can see the affection in his eyes, the adoration for his lover who takes his cock so beautifully.

Suddenly, it is all too much, pleasure cascades down his spine, making Ron’s back arch and his toes curl. “Blaise, I’m going to come, I’m going to…,“ he says hastily, pulling at Blaise’s hair to pull him off, but Blaise doesn’t back away, instead he moans appreciatively as Ron begins to spill in his mouth. When he is spent he pulls out, looking down at Blaise who is frantically stroking his cock.

“What are they doing?“ he pants. „Tell me.“ Ron lets his hand travel from Blaise’s hair to his cheek and cups it gently. Blaise leans into the touch, closing his eyes while still working his cock.

“Harry’s come,“ Ron begins a little unsure of himself. He has barely spoken so far and dirty talk has never been part of his previous sexual encounters. He wants to make it sound as sexy as it has sounded when Blaise narrated Harry and Draco’s encounter. “He has pulled out. He’s still hard, though. His whole cock is wet and his spunk is leaking out of Draco’s hole.“

“Did he finish? Draco?“ Blaise pants as he is nearing the edge himself.

“No, he hasn’t. Harry’s on his knees again and… oh god… he licks him again. His hole, it’s all used and pink and puffy and Harry’s spunk is leaking out of it and Harry is licking him clean.“ And then it isn’t enough anymore. Albeit never having touched another man in that way, it is suddenly not enough to see Blaise on his knees, he wants to touch, he wants to be the one to bring him over the edge.

“Come up here, I want to touch you,“ he nearly growls. Blaise hand stills on his cock. “You do?“ he asks sounding doubtful yet elated at the same time.

“Yes,“ Ron hisses and pulls at Blaise’s shirt to make him comply. Blaise does as fast as he can and when he is in front of Ron, he leans in to kiss Ron and this time it is slightly more coordinated and quite overwhelming. Ron loses himself in the kiss for a few moments, before he remembers what he’s wanted to do in the first place. He lets his hands travel down Blaise’s front, towards his cock, wraps one of them around it and whispers, “Show me how.“

Blaise’s hips buck forward and he groans brokenly against Ron’s lips. His hand finds Ron’s where it holds Blaise’s cock loosely and wraps around it, increasing the pressure and guiding his movements. His other hand comes to rest on the nape of Ron’s neck and pulls him into another passionate kiss.

This is what has been missing in Ron’s previous relationship, though he isn’t quite sure if _this_ means the extra cock in the mix or if it is the person it is attached to. He doesn’t care though, because all he can think about is that he wants to feel Blaise come, wants to feel his warm spunk on his skin, taste it, lick it off.

He lets his second hand travel lower and cups Blaise’s balls that are high and tight against his body. He caresses them with his fingertips before he pulls at them gently, earning himself another buck of Blaise’s hips and an almost pained whine.

“Fuck, Ron, I’m going to come,“ Blaise gasps and Ron only doubles his efforts, feeling Blaise’s cock harden impossibly further before it starts to pulse in his hand and Blaises warm come hits his wrist and trickles down his fingers. He strokes Blaise through his orgasm, milking the very last drops of come out of him, like he likes to do when he is by himself and when all the tension leaves Blaise’s body and he slumps forward, he releases the other man’s cock and slowly brings his hand towards his face. He cannot see a lot in the dim hallway, but from what he is able to see, it doesn’t look much different than his own spunk. He has never tasted his own though. But he wants this, so he brings his fingers to his lips and hesitantly peeks out his tongue to gather some of Blaise’s come on it.

Blaise has pulled back from him, when he realized what Ron is about to do and when he sees Ron’s slightly underwhelmed expression, he chuckles softly, leans in to kiss the frown off his face and then says, “If you’re going for taste, Fortescue’s is the better address.“

Ron cannot help the laughter that spills out of his throat. “Sorry, it’s just, if Harry would suck his own come out of Draco’s ass, I though it would taste better.“

“He didn’t do it for the taste either,“ Blaise says softly and just in that moment they can hear Draco whining, “Fuck, Harry, fuck, I…“ Both of them turn their heads to see Draco come all over the vanity. He slumps forward, but Harry catches him before he crashes into the mirror and kisses his neck and shoulder. “Mmh, I love you, Potter,“ Draco murmurs and lets his head fall back onto Harry’s shoulder, looking completely out of it.

“I think we’d better get out of here,“ Ron whispers and pulls his trousers up from where they have been pooling around his ankles, not caring about Blaise’s come that he smears everywhere.

“Yeah, probably best if I leave,“ Blaise answers, tucking himself away and zipping up his fly. Evading Ron’s gaze, he turns around and walks towards the stairs.

“Do you want to stay?“ Ron blurts before he even knows what he is doing. Blaise stops short, shoulders tense, before he slowly turns back towards Ron.

“Would you want me to?“ he asks uncertainly.

“Look, I’m not saying that I know what has just happened or what is going to happen or what I even want to happen, but yeah, if you’re up for it…,“ he trails off, his confidence wavering in the face of Blaise’s uncertain expression.

“I mean, you don’t have to, if don’t want to, it’s up to you,“ he quickly adds, feeling increasingly embarrassed. “I’m just gonna go to my room.“ He turns around and hurries off.

“I do,“ Blaise calls out hastily, making Ron stop in his tracks. He looks over his shoulder to see that Blaise has already taken a couple of steps towards him.

“You do?“ he asks tentatively.

“Yeah, let’s do this,“ Blaise answers, obviously trying for more confidence than he actually feels because the smile on his face is still somewhat unsure.

“Cool,“ replies Ron with his own hesitant smile. They leave the hallway just as the shower is turned on in the bathroom.

Once in Ron’s room, they fall into an awkward silence. Ron walks around the bed to his preferred side near the window and they look at each other uncomfortably. Neither knows what to do next.

They have just got off together in the hallway, which in itself would have been awkward because up until now Ron has thought that he was very much straight and not into getting off with men in hallways. On top of that, it had also been quite kinky due to the fact that it had been not entirely consensual at least the part where Harry and Draco come into the mix. Ron cannot help but feel bad about what he has seen, even though his cock gives an interested twitch at the thought of Harry licking and sucking at Draco’s entrance. Does he want to do that to Blaise? Or does he want Blaise to do that to him? Honestly he doesn’t know what he wants, but if this silence would end that would probably be a plus.

“So, eh, do you want to do it again?“ he asks just for something to say. He can’t deny that his cock is interested, but his body is exhausted and sleep sounds just about heavenly.

“Well, yeah,“ Blaise answers as if it was absolutely obvious and Ron cannot help but be delighted. “Not tonight, though, if that’s okay,“ he adds.

“Thank Merlin, I’m knackered,“ Ron exclaims and starts undressing quickly and then scoots under the covers. “Get in here,“ he says and Blaise undresses swiftly and darts under the covers, too. They lie in silence for a while, each on their side of the bed not looking at each other.

“Well, this is awkward,“ Blaise says after a couple of minutes. “Sure you don’t want me to leave?“

„No, stay,“ Ron answers immediately. He has the slight feeling that if they don’t brazen it out now, they will never be able to look each other in the eye again. “Let’s just switch off the lights and go to sleep,“ he adds. With a swish of his wand the room falls into complete darkness and even though not much else has changed he feels better already.

He lets his hand stray too his right until his fingertips brush against Blaise’s hand. The other man turns his hand around, palm facing up, so that Ron can entwine their fingers. Blaise shifts then, turning towards Ron, scooting closer and when Ron rolls to his side as well, they are mere inches away.

“See? Not so bad anymore,“ Ron whispers and brings the hand that is not currently holding Blaise’s up to the other man’s face where he explores Blaise’s features with his fingertips. Blaise hums appreciatively and scoots closer still until they are touching from knee to chest. He snakes an arm around Ron and pulls him as close to himself as possible before leaning in and pressing his lips to Ron’s.

They kiss slowly and quietly for a while, both humming contently from time to time, as their tongues caress each other while their hands caress their bodies. Blaise rocks his half-hard cock against Ron and it feels brilliant, but neither of them tries for something more.

“This is nice,“ Ron whispers against Blaise’s lips and he can feel the answering smile on the other man’s face.

„It is,“ Blaise murmurs back in between kisses.

* * *

Ron is woken up by the glare of the early morning sun that peeks through the heavy curtains in front of his window right into his face. A warm body is pressed against him and with a jolt the memories of last night flood his head.

“Stay still,“ Blaise groans next to him. “It’s too early to be alive!“

„Sorry,“ Ron murmurs in reply and settles back into the pillows. He tries his best to stay still, but the sun is directly shining into his face, which makes it entirely impossible to fall back asleep. Also he has to pee something fierce, his head is achy and the sheer amount of thoughts in his head make it almost impossible not to fidget. He manages though, for a couple of minutes, but his nose itches and his calf is cramping and with the sun glaring into his face it is altogether too hot, too uncomfortable, too much.

“Merlin’s balls, Ronald,“ Blaise grouses.

„Sorry,“ Ron winces. “I’ll just quickly dash into the bathroom.“ Blaise smiles sleepily andwithout opening his eyes rolls away from him.

“Hoping for another live sex show?“ he chuckles, making Ron freeze on his way out of the bed. A couple of moments go by without any of them saying anything.

“Go, Ronald,“ Blaise says exasperatedly, waving Ron away without opening his eyes. “I was only joking.“ Ron swings his legs out of the bed and when he stands up, he immediately sits back down heavily as a powerful wave of nausea hits him.

“Merlin, why are you so annoying?“ Blaise whinges.

“Sorry, hangover,“ Ron answers and makes to get up again.

“Yeah, that’s the cocktails, it’s to be expected,“ Blaise says, chuckling again.

Fifteen minutes later, when Ron re-enters his room he finds Blaise sitting up in bed, airily leafing through one of the magazines that Ron has hidden beneath his bed. He feels his face heating, when he sees just which magazine Blaise has pulled out of the stack, but he decides to brazen it out and leans against the bedpost, smirking slightly bashfully at Blaise.

“See something you like?“ he asks, raking one hand though his hair which remains damp after his shower.

“Urgh Merlin, no!“ Blaise exclaims, throwing the magazine carelessly to the side in a high arch. Ron follows it with his eyes and sees the naked girl on the cover bracing herself for the fall.

“What do you have to grin about?“ Blaise asks, when Ron looks back at him and their eyes lock.

“Nothing,“ Ron answers and when Blaise raises an eyebrow at him, he continues, “Just realized a thing or two.“

“Oh, how did that happen?“ Blaise has averted his eyes and studies his nails lazily.

“It just, kind of, shot out of me,“ Ron snorts.

“Sounds pornographic,“ Blaise drawls and scoots down on the bed again.

“Now that you mention it, it kind of was,“ Ron answers in fake astonishment. He hovers for a few moments, not entirely sure what to do, until Blaise pads the free space next to him on the bed. Ron makes to crawl in the bed, but “No,“ exclaims Blaise, holding up his hand. Ron awkwardly freezes half on and half off the bed. „Take this, I don’t want you to hurl on me,“ Blaise continues and grabs a vial of Hangover Potion that he has had standing on the nightstand beside him.

“Don’t you need it?“ Ron asks, before he gratefully takes the potion and uncorks the bottle.

“Slytherins don’t get hangovers, so no, I don’t need it.“ Ron downs the potion, grimacing at its strong minty taste that still eases his symptoms immediately, and finally climbs into bed. He lays next to Blaise, propping his head up on his hands and looks down at the other man. “What do we do now?“ he asks, feeling insecure and out of place.

“I don’t know. There are one or two things that I have in mind, though,“ Blaise replies and turns over towards Ron. “I thought I could maybe introduce myself to your prostate.“

“Are you going to fuck me then?“ Ron says, eyes wide despite the fact that he is already half hard.

“No,“ Blaise answers and pushes Ron onto his back. “There are other things we can do.“ He climbs on top of Ron and then slowly leans down to kiss him. The seconds stretch as Ron waits for Blaise’s lips to descend on his. It feels like the moment of truth, like what follows now symbolizes a crossway in his life.

He isn’t drunk, he isn’t turned on by watching something that he shouldn’t be seeing. Instead he is sober, he is master of his faculties and what happens now cannot be explained away later. And he realizes that he doesn’t want to explain away anything, so he lifts his head and bridges the final inches that separate him from Blaise.

Kissing Blaise in the morning is just as intoxicating as anything they have done yesterday and as blood rushes towards his groin, he groans loud and inhibited into the other man’s mouth.

Just like Harry and Draco yesterday, they kiss desperately and roam their hands exploratively over each other’s bodies. And when their lips part a while later it feels too soon, yet it also brings the promise of new pleasures.

Blaise trails kisses down Ron’s neck and then his stomach and when he is eye level with Ron’s cock he makes quick work of his pants and swallows him down as deep as he can. It is every bit as good as it has been yesterday to be in Blaises wet, hot mouth. Keeping quiet seems like a herculean task and keeping his hips still just as much, but Ron realizes that he doesn’t need to, when he accidentally thrusts upwards into Blaises mouth and is only met with an appreciative groan.

He looses himself in the feeling of Blaise’s mouth on him, his hand twisting in the linens, hips slowly thrusting in and out of this addicting heat, his mind pleasantly blank. When one of Blaise’s long, dark fingers brushes against his hole, he doesn’t even realize it. His legs spread instinctively and of their own accord. It is only when the finger pushes inside of him, that his eyes fly open and he gasps. But Blaise only sucks him in deeper and he is too overwhelmed to pay the unfamiliar feeling any mind.

By the time Blaise pulls out his finger and pushes back in with two, Ron feels pleasantly full. He is barreling towards his climax and when Blaise crooks his fingers, he almost yells, “Holy fucking shit, Blaise,“ and comes hard down the other man’s throat.

Blaise crawls up towards him and kisses him, sloppy and open-mouthed, and then Ron understands all this talk about taste, because he has never tasted anything more arousing than his own come on Blaise’s tongue.

* * *

Harry and Draco are already in the kitchen when they make their way downstairs. Apparently, they have been up for some time, because yesterday’s chaos is gone. Ron is nervous about seeing them even though he’s sure that they don’t know what he has seen yesterday. He still feels bad about it.

Harry throws him an inquisitive glance when he sees Blaise entering the kitchen behind Ron, but Ron evades his eyes, mumbling a greeting before he pours himself and Blaise a cup of coffee. He sits down next to Blaise, opposite of Harry, and tries to act as inconspicuous as possible, buttering himself a piece of toast and taking the sports pages of The Prophet while he passes the rest on to Blaise.

This is fine, he thinks, while he unfolds the papers and sips his coffee. Of course it is that moment that Draco speaks.

“So did you enjoy the show yesterday, you two perverts?“ And while Ron spits his coffee across half the table, Blaise merely shrugs an unimpressed shoulder and says, “Nah, I’ve seen better.“

Ron turns towards Harry, absently sweeping his hand over his face to get rid of the coffee. He is sure he looks sufficiently guilty to ward off the brunt of Harry’s wrath but instead he finds him biting his lip to keep from smiling. When he looks over at Draco, he sees him grabbing for a piece of toast which he flings at Blaise’s head.

“That was some premium fucking, asshole,“ he grouses, but when the corners of Blaise’s mouth begin to twitch, they break out laughing. Even Harry chuckles quietly. Everyone except Ron seems to be having a jolly good time. He gets up from his chair, completely bewildered by their behavior, and walks out of the kitchen.

“I’m moving out,“ he calls over his shoulder.

“Finally,“ Draco shouts back from the kitchen.

“You can move in with me,“ Blaise groans an hour later while Ron’s balls deep inside him.

“I might,“ Ron pants back, and he really might. In a year or so, if things go the way he hopes them to.

**Author's Note:**

> So, that happened. Hope you enjoyed the read. If so, kudos and comments make me a happy, happy person.
> 
> Say Hello on Tumblr if you feel like it: MelCalder


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